The Black Market

At the Yuezhou Third Hospital, He Jiaqing suddenly opened his eyes. A peculiar, imposing aura had abruptly appeared, seeming not very far from the hospital. Who had arrived in the Outer States? Could he just be overthinking, or might this aura have something to do with "Zhao Xiaowan"? He Jiaqing wanted to step out and investigate, but unexpectedly, the ward door was pushed open, and Captain Chen of the Dark Star Bureau walked in. A doctor was briefing Captain Chen on He Jiaqing's condition. Despite some developments lately, He Jiaqing's health did not seem to show any improvement. Captain Chen wasn't particularly interested in the medical updates. He kept his eyes quietly fixed on He Jiaqing. He Jiaqing dared not make any reckless moves, for Old Chen was a Scrying Cultivator of no low caliber. The windows were closed, yet a faint breeze seemed to drift into the ward. An imposing aura. Old Chen had also sensed this inexplicable aura. He cast his gaze out the window, then turned his eyes back onto He Jiaqing. He Jiaqing inwardly groaned. What is this supposed to mean? You suspect me? The two stared each other down for a moment until the strange aura vanished. Xiao Zhenggong had sent his men to collect "Zhao Xiaowan" and immediately sealed her away. *** Once Old Chen left, He Jiaqing hurried to contact Wan Jinxian. "Did you really get Zhao Xiaowan?" Wan Jinxian changed his story: "I'm still tracking her down with everything I've got." He Jiaqing was startled. "What went wrong?" Wan Jinxian sighed. "I was duped. Luo Zhengnan tricked me with a lizard skin. What I got my hands on was an ancient celebrated spear named Cloud Flood Dragon—I mistook it for Zhao Xiaowan." "Whose hands is Zhao Xiaowan actually in?" He Jiaqing's tone was calm, yet it made Wan Jinxian even more nervous. "She should still be in Luo Zhengnan's hands." "Where is Luo Zhengnan?" "He should still be in Tiemenbao." "Still in Tiemenbao?" He Jiaqing let out a laugh that made Wan Jinxian shudder for a moment. He Jiaqing said nothing more and cut the connection. If he wasn't mistaken, Luo Zhengnan had already reached the Outer States. That imposing aura from just now very likely came from him. *** Inside the villa, Xiao Zhenggong hosted a banquet to reward Luo Zhengnan. "Old Luo, I toast this cup to you. In our entire gang, you are the only truly capable man!" "Thank you for the high regard, Gang Leader!" Old Luo raised his cup and drained it in one gulp. Xiao Zhenggong ordered his men to keep bringing out food and wine, heaping on praises by the bushel, yet he did not breathe a single word about the vice gang leader position. What did this mean? He had signed a covenant deed. Xiao Zhenggong was considered a man of Puluo Province too, so he ought to know the weight of a covenant deed. Xiao Zhenggong was indeed from Puluo Province, but he had lived in the Outer States for far too long. He knew how much Puluo folks valued covenant deeds, but he had also learned a few tricks in the Outer States for dealing with them. For instance, flexibility. For instance, loopholes. For instance, that handy phrase: "In principle... rationally speaking... but the practical reality is..." In principle, according to the covenant deed, Xiao Zhenggong was supposed to make Luo Zhengnan the vice gang leader upon completion of the task. Rationally speaking, Luo Zhengnan had indeed accomplished the job and delivered "Zhao Xiaowan" into Xiao Zhenggong's hands. Yet the practical reality was that the seat of vice gang leader was no trifling matter. It concerned the rise and fall of the entire gang and required utmost caution. One couldn't judge based solely on merit; it demanded comprehensive evaluation and long-term deliberation. Could Luo Zhengnan understand such talk? Yes, he was a man who kept up with the times. Could he accept such an outcome? No. He was a man of Puluo Province. To the people of Puluo Province, a covenant deed was an unshakable truth. Luo Zhengnan didn't want to linger for another second. That very day, he returned to Yaowanggou. *** The following morning, Zhu Junlong, general manager of the Chashan Hotel, arrived at the ward to visit He Jiaqing, bringing him a bouquet of flowers. After Zhu Junlong left, He Jiaqing took advantage of the orderly's inattention to clutch a flower petal in his palm. Through the petal, He Jiaqing heard Zhu Junlong's voice. "Jiaqing, word just came in. Xiao Zhenggong, the young gang leader of the Jiangxiang Gang, has acquired Zhao Xiaowan." He Jiaqing glanced at the orderly, who, unable to fight off exhaustion, had dozed off. He Jiaqing followed up, asking Zhu Junlong, "Is the intel reliable?" "It comes from an informant inside the Jiangxiang Gang who took plenty of our cash. It should be reliable." The news leaked this quickly? Could Xiao Zhenggong be so careless? Did someone by his side leak it? He Jiaqing had planted plenty of eyes within the Jiangxiang Gang, but none had infiltrated close enough to Xiao Zhenggong. Who else could it be? Could it be Old Luo? What would be his motive? Could it be because Xiao Zhenggong didn't deliver on his promised reward? Whoever leaked the information could be ignored for now, but Zhao Xiaowan's soul had to be secured as soon as possible; otherwise, certain matters would become very difficult to handle. He didn't want to keep lying in this bed forever, either. He Jiaqing stroked his chin in thought for a moment, his brow twitching upward into a faint smile. He might as well take this chance to test Xiao Zhenggong's mettle. He Jiaqing said to Zhu Junlong, "Find a suitable person to invite Gang Leader Xiao over for a cup of tea." A cup of tea? A kidnapping? Zhu Junlong worried he had misheard. "You mean... kidnap the young gang leader of the Jiangxiang Gang, who is also the vice captain of the Dark Star Bureau?" It sounded like an impossible mission. Yet He Jiaqing didn't think so. "What do you mean by kidnap? How could we do such a thing? If word got out, wouldn't our reputation be ruined?" Zhu Junlong was somewhat baffled. "Then what do you mean?" "I'm telling you to invite him over for tea, ask him a few questions, and then kill him. That way, won't the secret never get out?" Zhu Junlong caught He Jiaqing's meaning, but he still felt the difficulty was overwhelming. Since He Jiaqing had said as much, he would naturally create a proper opportunity for Zhu Junlong to strike. Returning to the hotel, it wasn't long before Zhu Junlong received word from He Jiaqing. Tonight, the Dark Star Bureau was going to inspect the black market in the Flower Lake District, with Xiao Zhenggong leading the squad personally. Raiding the black market was standard operating procedure for the Dark Star Bureau—sometimes a real bust, sometimes merely going through the motions. With Xiao Zhenggong leading, it was guaranteed to be just going through the motions; he had no appetite to butt heads with the black market. He had already given the black market proprietor a heads-up beforehand, planning only to drop by for a quick look tonight. This was indeed an excellent opportunity. In such routine inspections, Xiao Zhenggong wouldn't bring many men, nor would he be on high guard. Zhu Junlong summoned a Recluse and a Combatant. The Recluse was a Dwelling Cultivator named Duan Xiangwen, who was at the fifth tier of cultivation. The Combatant was a Martial Cultivator named Zhong Guoshu, also at the fifth tier. Zhu Junlong explained the task, and the two agreed on the spot without asking a single question. He Jiaqing was their brother—a brother who had shared life and death with them. At a single summons, they wouldn't hesitate even if they had to cross mountains of daggers and seas of flames. Besides, this was far from a mountain of daggers or a sea of flames. According to the Dark Star Bureau's files, Xiao Zhenggong was merely a third-tier Combatant. Zhong Guoshu felt that going alone would already be more than enough. Zhu Junlong cautioned, "It's better to be prudent. Jiaqing cares deeply about this matter, so we must take it to heart." Recluses were not fond of socializing. Duan Xiangwen was reluctant to talk to Zhong Guoshu, and Zhong Guoshu felt bringing him along was superfluous. Fortunately, Zhu Junlong was prepared. Knowing the black market intimately, he clearly laid out the tactics and ambush locations, and even took the two out on a preliminary scout of the venue. At eleven fifty-eight that night, the black market opened promptly. A so-called black market wasn't an open vegetable bazaar set up along the street. Even with backing from higher-ups, no one dared to conduct business so brazenly. On Yiping Road in the Flower Lake District stood a Cultural Palace that had been rented out for the evening under the pretext of a private film screening. This was where the black market was hosted. The Cultural Palace housed a cinema—a very traditional theater from the previous century. The seats were hard and sprang upward, so whenever the audience entered or left, a loud clattering echoed across the hall. Though run-down, the cinema was quite spacious, spanning two floors with private viewing boxes on both sides. Those unfamiliar with the black market's trade sometimes wondered out of curiosity why people still came to watch movies at a Cultural Palace abandoned for so many years. Busybodies might even slip into the theater to take a peek. Could one enter without a ticket? Yes! The screen projected classic movies from the eighties and nineties of the last century, with a sparse audience of twenty or thirty people scattered throughout the seats. Once inside the theater, one shouldn't rush to do business. If you truly came to buy something, find a seat in the back rows first. Avoid the front five rows, and watch the film attentively for ten-odd minutes. If the movie was a wuxia martial arts film, it indicated that today's sellers were dealing in weapons. If it was a comedy, most sellers were offering magical artifacts. If it was a romance, most had come to sell medicinal ingredients. If it was an erotic film that regular cinemas couldn't screen, it proved pills and elixirs were on sale today. If it was a gunfight action movie, the situation was special—most attendees were flower-tongue brokers, capable of arranging travel permits, fabricating false identities, or brokering hires for bodyguards and assassins. After watching the movie for about ten minutes, a vendor carrying a snack box, typical of old cinemas, would approach and ask what you wanted to buy. The correct response was to ask for water—not soda or beverages, but pure water. After buying a bottle, do not drink it. Carry the bottle down to the front five rows, sit down beside one of the audience members, and you could begin conversing with the seller. Both parties had to keep up the appearance of watching the film. The seller would name the goods, and the buyer would listen. If there was intent to make a deal, they would head up to a private box on the second floor to negotiate details. During the negotiations, the water bottle would be placed outside the door to keep others from intruding. Once the deal was struck, the buyer shouldn't rush to hand over the money. First, head downstairs and call out to buy water, waiting for the snack vendor to come up. In the presence of the snack vendor, the buyer paid, the seller called for the delivery, and ten percent was deducted as a gratuity for the snack vendor. Why give the snack vendor so much money? Because he was the proprietor of the black market, and this was his rightful venue fee. Could one skip calling him and conduct business privately? Sure. As long as he didn't find out. However, if you received counterfeit goods, fake money, or suffered underhanded violence, the proprietor assumed zero responsibility. The proprietor had received word in advance, so tonight, not a single seller appeared at the Cultural Palace. Plenty of buyers had arrived, yet the snack vendor was nowhere to be seen. The front five rows sat completely empty, leaving them at a loss as to whom to approach. Amid this stalemate, Xiao Zhenggong walked in alone. Since it had been agreed to merely go through the motions, Xiao Zhenggong brought along only two rookies, Lightbulb and Mingxing, intending to take a quick look, ask a couple of questions, and leave. No business was being conducted here tonight anyway, and watching a movie wasn't against the law. Xiao Zhenggong couldn't even be bothered to open his mouth, directly instructing Lightbulb and Mingxing to conduct a few casual inquiries and write up a report to wrap things up. Finding a seat in the back rows, he let out a yawn, waiting to call it a night and head home. A man walked up to Xiao Zhenggong's side and asked in a low voice, "Do you sell water here?" Xiao Zhenggong furrowed his brows, glanced at the man, and chuckled. "Are you out of your mind? I wasn't even going to arrest you, and you deliver yourself right into my hands?" The man replied, "I'm not out of my mind." Before his voice could fade, a sharp blade pressed right against Xiao Zhenggong's ribs. "Come with me. Don't move, and don't speak." The strike had been swift, steady, precise, and entirely imperceptible. Seeing this, Xiao Zhenggong asked, "Are you a Martial Cultivator?" The man applied a bit more pressure to the knife. "I told you not to speak." Xiao Zhenggong smiled. "Just because you tell me not to speak, I shouldn't? Who gave you such a high opinion of yourself?"